


To Find, and Not to Yield

by okeatingmycaptain



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Dead Poets Society - Freeform, the one where neil doesn't die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okeatingmycaptain/pseuds/okeatingmycaptain
Summary: Rated teen and up for Neil's struggle with s***ide but there's no graphic depictions of violence or deathOnce again the revolver caught his eye. He could take it with him, off into the woods, and his parents would assume the worst. They’d be looking for a body, not a living boy, and that would make him even harder to find. Even if they never found the revolver or any of his clothes in the woods, he knew his father would assume that he was dead and eventually force his mother to give up the search.It felt odd, thinking of his parents. As if they were strangers, or people he’d known in a past life. There was no emotion tied to them anymore, nothing to make him hesitate or shy away from his goal.He was ready to leave, but not ready to die. No, Neil Perry wanted to live, and he was going to make it to a place where he could live the way he wanted.
Relationships: Charlie Dalton & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson & Charlie Dalton, Todd Anderson & Neil Perry
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

_ Thump _ .

_ Thump _ .

_ Thump _ .

Neil Perry’s heart beat hard against the inside of his ribcage, that ever-ticking indication that he was still alive. That he was here, that the play was still, incredibly, going on -- even in the midst of everything his father was taking from him. 

After tonight, that ticking would end. No more would he feel the rush of blood through his body as he stepped onto the stage. No more would he experience the adrenaline rush he got when he and the others ran to the cave at night. No more would he feel the way he felt when they were laughing, smiling, cheering him on from the middle row of the theater. 

Never again. Because after tonight, he would cease to exist. He would put an end to it all. All the fear, the exhaustion, the arguments and the anger and the tears. After tonight, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of that any more. And his father --

His father could live his life knowing that he was the reason Neil did what he was going to do. He could live out his days reliving their last fight, and maybe, hopefully, he’ll realize what he did wrong. 

It was almost too much to hope for, but it didn’t really matter anyway. After Neil was gone, his father couldn’t control him anymore. He’d be free. 

All of these thoughts and more swirled through his head as he stared out of the window of his father’s car. Todd, Keating and the others faded into the snow, and Neil didn’t dare look back at them. Keating would know, Keating always knew -- and Neil wouldn’t be able to bear the anguish he knew would be in his teacher’s face if he realized what Neil was prepared to do. 

It would hurt them, all of them -- maybe even his father. But what other choice did he have? He was trapped, locked into a future he didn’t want and forced to give up the only things that truly mattered to him. His chance to truly contribute a verse was fading quickly, his chances of escape dwindling to nothing as they drove away from Wellton. 

Well, almost nothing. He knew his way out, but he had to try one more time. One last attempt to get through to his father. Not that he thought it would work, but he had to try. He had to. 

Neil followed his father up to their house, the snow crunching beneath his feet as he approached the imposing building. His father never said a word, not even looking back at Neil until they entered the room where his mother was sitting, the cigarette in her hand sending up wispy tendrils of smoke. Neil sat in one of the armchairs as his father turned around to speak, disappointment and anger etched in his features. 

“We’re trying very hard,” he began. “To understand why it is that you insist on defying us. But whatever the reason, we’re not going to let you ruin your life.” 

Neil’s eyes dropped to the floor. If only his father knew how much acting meant to him. If only he could make him understand that the only one ruining Neil’s life was him. 

His father barely took a breath in between sentences. “Tomorrow I’m withdrawing you from Wellton, and enrolling you in Braden Military School.” Neil looked up, pleading, but his father’s eyes were cold and unfeeling. It was as if he were looking straight through his son instead of at him. When Neil glanced at his mother, he saw tears on her face, but she said nothing. 

“But that’s ten more years,” Neil protested, unable to keep his voice steady. “Father, that’s a lifetime!” 

“Oh, stop it!” Mr. Perry snapped, dismissing his son with a tilt of his head. “Don’t be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term.” 

For a second, something in his face seemed to soften, and Neil dared to hope. “You don’t understand, Neil --” and just like that, it was gone, replaced by the domineering voice Neil was so used to. “You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of, and I am not going to let you waste them!” 

“I’ve got to tell you what I feel!” Neil shouted, hitting his feet before he even realized what he was doing. His father’s eyes registered shock at first, but soon returned to their previous rage. 

“Well then, what?” he shouted, taking a threatening step towards Neil and yelling over Mrs. Perry, who also stood, ringing a tissue between her hands. “Tell me what you feel!” 

The air was silent for two long seconds as Neil and his father stared off against each other and Mrs. Perry watched from the sidelines. 

“What is it?” Mr. Perry sneered, completely unperturbed by the look of anguish and pain on Neil’s face. Neil stared hard at him, his heart pounding and his mind racing. This was his chance; this minute of silence between him and his parents. He had to tell them, had to make them understand what acting was to him, what it meant -- 

But he froze for a second too long, unable to put into words all of the things he wanted to say. He had written poetry, recited it in the cave for the others and composed verses even Keating was proud of, and yet, in this on vital moment, where words mattered the most and he had his chance to say what he would, they failed him. And then his father was speaking again. “Is it more of this -- this acting business? Because you can forget that.” 

Neil shifted his gaze from his father’s face to his chest, unable to meet the eyes of the man who was killing his last hope. His plan had failed -- there was no way his father was ever going to listen. How could he have been so stupid? 

“What?” his father whispered, his voice low and menacing. “What?” 

Neil swallowed, his eyes burning, then shrugged. “Nothing.” 

He wondered if, in that moment, his father knew what he was about to lose. What he had already lost. 

Neil sat back down in the chair and folded his hands in his lap, his eyes now locked on the floor. 

His father was breathing heavily. “Nothing?” he said. “Well, then, let’s go to bed.” 

Neil stayed where he was, his eyes vacant and his mind made up. His mother knelt behind him, still sniffling over what had happened, and he let his voice be just loud enough for her to hear. 

“I was good,” he said. “I was really good.” 

She nodded, and perhaps she knew something of what was going on in his head. Maybe she might have said something, in a different world where they could speak their minds and be unafraid of the consequences. The kind of world Keating had created for the boys in his class. The kind of world the dead poets dreamt of; one that could never be attained but could always be imagined. 

But instead, she simply said, “Go on. Get some sleep.” 

And then she left. 

Did she cry, later that night? Did she release the emotions she repressed to keep up a good face for his father? Did his father perhaps comfort her, telling her it would all be alright? Did she fall asleep with swollen eyes and her cheek pressed against the tear-soaked front of his father’s shirt? 

Neil hoped she did, for that would mean that his parents were human. That they would feel some remorse, even if it was just a little, for what was about to happen. For what they drove him to do. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i wasn't sure if i would keep going with this one, but i'm rather obsessed with the idea of what might happen to neil if he lived, so here we go
> 
> also, thanks for the comments and kudos on the last chapter! this is the first thing i've ever posted anywhere for others to read so i really appreciate you guys.

The next hour was a blur and suddenly Neil found himself sitting at his father’s desk, his Puck crown on his head and the draft from the window he barely remembered opening chilling the bare skin of his chest and arms. He shivered, but not because he was cold. His father’s handgun sat cold and silent on the desk in front of him, somehow calling to him without saying a word. He stared at it, turned it over in his hands, tested the weight of it against his shaking fingers. 

Neil caught his breath and raised the gun, feeling the muzzle press, unyielding, to his temple. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for the impact, and then the darkness that would come after. 

He wondered who would tell the others. Surely his father would find him in the morning, lifeless on the floor of his study. But who would tell the boys, his best friends in the whole world? Would they even know about it, or would his father try to cover it up? 

He didn’t want to die. Not really. There was so much he hadn’t done, so much he wanted to do. And the others -- they would be crushed. Todd would probably shut down again, go back to being quiet and afraid all the time without Neil there to draw him out. 

Neil blinked back tears. No, that wouldn’t happen. Charlie and the others, they wouldn’t let it. Todd was as much a part of them now as he was of Neil. They wouldn’t leave him behind. 

Charlie. The gun dropped from Neil’s hand, landing with a thud on the desk. The noise was thick, muffled by the wind from outside. His father wouldn’t have heard it, or if he had, he would have dismissed it as nothing to be worried about. If only he knew. 

But that wasn’t the thought that was running through Neil’s head. No, he was reaching for the phone his father kept on his desk, dialing the number he’d had drilled in his head since he started attending Wellton. The line stalled for a long moment -- too long -- before someone picked it up. “Welton Academy.” 

“I need to speak with a Mr. Charles Dalton,” Neil said, dropping his voice a bit to make sure whoever was on the other end didn’t recognize it. “Immediately.” 

“Who is this?” the man asked. 

“That’s none of your concern,” Neil snapped, putting an edge in his tone that (hopefully) would make the man go and get Charlie. He brushed his arm across his eyes, trying to dispel the moisture that remained there. 

The man sighed, and for a second Neil thought he was going to hang up on him, but then he said, “Please hold.” 

Neil let out a sigh of relief as tears once again jumped to his eyes. It had to be because it was so late - otherwise he never would have gotten through to Charlie. The line picked back up, and Neil nearly sobbed when he heard his best friend’s voice through the speaker. “Hello?” 

“Charlie,” Neil said quickly. “Charlie, it’s me.” 

“Neil?!” Charlie said, just a little too loudly. Neil heard a muffled curse and then Charlie lowered his voice. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t do it anymore, Charlie,” Neil cried, keeping his voice soft so as to avoid waking his parents. “I’ve got to find a way out. I can’t live like this, I -- I’d rather be dead than live like this anymore.” 

“Neil, what --” 

“Charlie, please,” Neil said, his voice breaking. “I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get out -- to get away -- he’s going to make me go to Braden, Charlie.” 

“The military school?” 

“Yeah. Then Harvard. I can’t take this anymore. I have to do something, to get away from him somehow --” He took a deep breath. “I’ve got his gun, Charlie.” 

He couldn’t explain why he added that sentence, why he felt compelled in that moment to tell his best friend that he was about to die. But somehow the words were out of his mouth before he could call them back, and Charlie’s choke on the other end of the line told him everything he hadn’t even known he wanted to hear. 

Charlie wanted him. Charlie would help. They would find a way out, just like they always did. 

Neil Perry didn’t want to die, and with Charlie’s help, he just might not have to. 

“Neil, listen to me. I’ll meet you somewhere,” Charlie whispered rapidly, his voice tinged with panic. “We can figure this out together. Just, don’t do anything stupid, okay?” 

Neil nodded, then verbalized his agreement. “Okay.” 

“I’ll meet you halfway, alright? By that old oak tree that Knox jumped out of into the snow that one time. Remember?” 

Neil could see it in his mind’s eye, barren and stripped of its leaves in the dead of winter. “Yeah, okay.”

“Come straight to me, Neil,” Charlie said. “Do not do anything stupid. Do you understand me, Neil?” 

Neil couldn’t help but smile at his best friend’s voice even as tears poured down his face. “I understand.” 

He would run away. He and Charlie would figure out somewhere for him to stay and lay low for a while, and he’d go from there. 

He had to make it look serious, though, or his parents would come after him. He had to make sure that they wouldn’t be able to find him, no matter how hard they looked -- he had to be as good as dead. 

Once again the revolver caught his eye. He could take it with him, off into the woods, and his parents would assume the worst. They’d be looking for a body, not a living boy, and that would make him even harder to find. Even if they never found the revolver or any of his clothes in the woods, he knew his father would assume that he was dead and eventually force his mother to give up the search. 

It felt odd, thinking of his parents. As if they were strangers, or people he’d known in a past life. There was no emotion tied to them anymore, nothing to make him hesitate or shy away from his goal. 

He was ready to leave, but not ready to die. No, Neil Perry wanted to live, and he was going to make it to a place where he could live the way he wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

Neil stumbled through the snow, the thick flakes pouring down around him as he tried to make his way to meet Charlie. He lost his way more than once and had to double back, tracing his steps through the woods. His heart pounded against his ribcage, and it seemed as though it pounded harder than it ever had before. For the first time, he was truly taking control of his life and doing what he wanted. 

Finally he stopped, stumbling a little as he came into view of the tree. A dark figure leaned against it, standing out in a stark silhouette against the snowy backdrop. Neil sucked in a breath. “Charlie?” 

The figure turned, and Charlie Dalton pulled the hood of his Welton robe off of his head. “Neil? Is that you?” 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Neil said breathlessly, trying not to laugh - or was it sob? - in relief. 

“Thank God,” Charlie said, grabbing Neil’s shoulders and hugging him tightly. He wasted no time, though, pulling back and nodding curtly. “Let’s go. There’s a car waiting for us at the road ‘bout a half a mile back.” 

Neil hesitated, trying his best to search Charlie’s face in the dark. “Who did you call?” 

“Just my brother. Don’t worry, Neil,” Charlie said quickly, seeing the look of desperation on his friend’s face. “He won’t tell anyone. We needed a way to get out of here and he’s got a car, so I called him.” 

Neil stopped walking, and it took Charlie a couple of steps to notice he was gone. He turned back, hands deep in the pockets of his robe, and peered at Neil through the still-falling snow. “Neil --”

“They can’t know, Charlie,” Neil said firmly. Or, as firmly as his voice would allow. “My parents can’t know where I’ve gone.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t think they can ever know. If they find out where I am, they’ll make me go back, and I can’t --” his voice broke. “I can’t go back there. Not after tonight. They won’t understand.” 

“Okay, Neil,” Charlie said slowly. “I know. We can trust Thomas, okay? We can. He’ll help us out, and so will my parents. We’ll get it figured out, alright?” 

Neil stared into Charlie’s face for a long time, trying to decide if this was really what he wanted to do. He knew he could trust Charlie, that was never in question. Neil trusted Charlie with his life. But what about Charlie’s brother? His parents? Neil hadn’t meant for anyone else to know, but standing there in the snow, with his shoes soaked through and the cold settling in his bones, he realized that he didn’t really have any other choice. Charlie was here, Charlie was willing to help him, and so what if the Daltons knew? Mrs. Dalton had been like a second mother to Neil ever since he and Charlie had become friends. Sometimes she was even closer to him than his own mother was. Charlie’s father was another story, but his mother had always been there for Neil, and if Charlie was certain that she would help them, then Neil was willing to ask for her help. 

He nodded once, then twice, and then he followed Charlie through the woods and to the road. Charlie’s older brother, Thomas, was leaning against the hood of his car when they emerged, and he raised his hand to wave at Neil. Neil dropped his eyes to the ground, afraid to meet the man’s eyes, afraid of what he would see there. But Thomas clapped him on the shoulder and opened the car door without a word. Charlie slipped into the shotgun seat while Neil sat in the back. They pulled away without speaking and made it nearly twenty minutes down the road before Thomas asked Charlie where they were going. 

“Home,” Charlie said, glancing back at Neil. “We’ll stay there for tonight and figure out where Neil’s going next in the morning.” 

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Thomas asked. “If dad finds out -” 

“Father is on a trip for the next month and he won’t know a thing,” Charlie snapped. “Do you really think I would take Neil there after tonight if father were home?” 

Thomas eyed his brother. “Just make sure you know what you’re getting yourselves into.” His eyes met Neil’s in the rearview mirror. “The longer you stay away, the harder it’s going to be for you to go back.” 

“I’m not going back,” Neil whispered. “I can’t.” 

“Well, I can’t say I blame you,” Thomas muttered. “The only reason I didn’t run away is that my father and I wanted the same thing.” 

“Not all of us are so lucky,” Charlie said in a low voice, and that put an end to the subject. 

Finally, Thomas pulled the car into the Daltons’ driveway, and Neil went to exit. “Sorry for getting snow all over your car, Thomas.” 

“Ahh, don’t worry about it,” the older boy replied. “I needed to vacuum her out anyway.” He stared up at the tall Dalton manor, pausing before shrugging his shoulders. “Right. Let’s go.” 

Together they marched up to the porch and Charlie tipped a potted plant to the side to scoop up the spare key. The atmosphere immediately lightened as soon as Neil stepped inside - he knew he would be safe here. If Charlie’s father was out of town, there was nothing to worry about. Mrs. Dalton would help him. She would. 

“I’ll go wake her up,” Thomas said softly, stealing upstairs to the master bedroom. Neil and Charlie made their way to the sitting room, where Charlie perched on the arm of a plush armchair and Neil stood uncomfortably just inside the door. 

“Sit down, Neil, go on,” Charlie said. Then, sensing his friend’s discomfort, “It’s okay now. You trust me, right?” 

“Absolutely,” Neil answered. 

Charlie grinned his iconic, I’m-about-to-stir-up-some-trouble grin. “Good. So don’t worry.” 

Neil mustered a smile in return and sat down, just to stand up again when Thomas returned with Mrs. Dalton. She cinched the tie of her dressing gown around her waist as she came into the room, her hair uncurled and a little frizzy. She stopped when she saw Neil, and looked between him and Charlie for a long two minutes before opening her mouth. “Explain.” 

Neil’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want her to know what had happened, what he had almost done -- there was no way he could tell her. What would she think of him?

“Mom, Neil needs a place to stay,” Charlie said before Neil could figure out what he wanted to say. “He can’t go home. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Anything else is for him to tell you.” 

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Neil whispered, keeping his eyes locked on the carpeted floor. “Charlie was the only person I could think of.” 

Mrs. Dalton studied the face of the boy in front of her, the boy who she’d practically raised as one of her own. Neil had grown up alongside her sons, spending breaks and weeks at a time at her house over the summers since he and Charlie had met. She’d nursed his scrapes and bruises just as she had Charlie’s, picking him up when he was down. And that wasn’t going to change now. As Neil had gotten older, his parents had allowed less and less time for leisure, packing school into the summers and breaks that were previously so carefree. But when Mrs. Dalton looked at Neil Perry, looked at this boy that was as good as a son to her, she saw him as he was at twelve years old, scared and innocent and afraid to start his first term at Welton. She’d been there for him then, just as she would be now. She’d been suspicious of what went on in the Perry household for years, but it was never her place to bring it up. She’d wondered how long it would take this sensitive, emotional boy to break under his father’s strict regime, and now here he was, dripping snow onto her carpet and unable to meet her eyes. 

“You did right to come here,” she said finally. “Of course you can stay.” 

Those words hit Neil harder than he’d expected -- so much harder. The fact that she was willing to let him stay, to offer him another option after he’d thought for so many hours that there was just one way out -- it was too much. He felt the tears coming before he knew it and then he couldn’t stop them. He buried his face in his sleeve and tried to hide them, but Mrs. Dalton stepped forward to embrace him like his own mother never had. Neil broke down then and there, sobbing his heart out onto the shoulder of his best friend’s mom as she held him tightly, and it was a long time before either of them let go.


End file.
